


Talk British To Me

by KuHana



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Late Night Conversations, Macy loves Harry's accent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 14:03:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21016982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuHana/pseuds/KuHana
Summary: Having some down time and the house to themselves, Macy asks Harry a few very important questions.





	Talk British To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Head cannon that Macy totally adores Harry's accent

“Okay, and how do you say university?”

“Really, this is how you want to spend our time alone?”

Macy tugged on the Whitelighter’s hand, bottom lip caught between her teeth in what she hoped was a prompting look. 

Harry sighed, unable to refuse the young scientist anything when she looked so bloody adorable (brown eyes bright with the need to learn something new, hair soft and scented with rosemary shampoo, her fingers wrapped around his in conformation that yes, they were together. Really, properly together). 

“Harry?”

“Hm? Ah, yes, sorry. Well, it’s nothing too drastically different.”

Macy leaned in, the attic sofa dipping to accommodate her shift in weight. “So?”

“_ Uni. _ We pronounce it uni_. _See, no difference at all.” 

No difference? Macy begged to differ. The way Harry’s accent thickened sent sharp shivers down her spine. She drew her legs up in a weak attempt to gain some control over her body. “What about happy?”

“Chuffed.”

“Um, banter?”

“Bants.”

“Tired?”

“Knackered.”

Macy giggled. “I like that one. Okay, okay, um, how about dude.”

“Bloke.”

“Right, I hear you say that a lot.” 

Harry blinked. “Do I?” He cleared his throat and patted down his trousers. “It’s a common word, no wonder I’ve let it slip a few times.” 

Macy picked up on the heat spilling into the Whitelighter's cheeks and the way his shoulders stiffened in embarrassment. She patted his thigh. “You're comfortable here, so it’s normal to fall back into what you know best.”

“Yes, I suppose. Ahem, what else do you want to know?” 

Macy tapped her chin in mock thought. “How do you say friend?” 

“Mate.”

“Oh?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “No laughing.”

Macy quickly shook her head, curls bouncing every which way. “No, no, not laughing. No laughing here. None at all… so, am I your mate or am I your _ mate _?” 

“Macy, honestly.”

“Sorry, sorry.” The oldest Charmed One giggled into her hands, dark eyes sparkling with glee. Something that didn't happen often, but when it did, Harry cherished the moment, even if it was at his own expense. He wrapped an arm around his lover’s shoulder and drew her in. 

Macy's giggles died off, replaced with warm cheeks and a bubbling heat that pooled into her lower belly. “We should do this more often,” she yawned, deciding to ignore the way her body internally turned to goo. 

“Lets not.”

“I think we should.”

Harry nudged her shoulder in protest, but the witch pressed her lips together. “I like hearing your accent,” she finally admitted when Harry's gaze slid down to the floor. “It’s nice- different. Besides, it ties your whole look together. Can’t go breaking up a perfectly good British set.”

Harry hummed. “I suppose you’ve got a point. But you really like my accent?”

His answer came in the form of soft lips pressing against his own, followed by a hand caressing his cheek. “Ya,” Macy whispered, “I like it a lot.”


End file.
